


it's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you

by theghostofjamespotter



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Inspired by Poetry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theghostofjamespotter/pseuds/theghostofjamespotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zayn leaves and harry is left with reminders.</p><p>zarry ficlet, based on absentions, 9 messages I left on your voicemail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you

**Author's Note:**

> based on emily’s/samebutharold's [tags](http://samebutharold.tumblr.com/post/120592973916/1-do-you-still-love-me-please-call-me-back-2). this is so angsty and awful i’m sorry. x

**1.**

Harry’s drunk, and even though last night Niall had convinced him to finally delete Zayn’s number (”Stop reliving it every time he doesn’t text you back,” is what he said), it’s the only one he has memorized.

It rings twice before going to voicemail.

 “Do you still love me?” he asks. “Please call me back.”

He calls the number twice more while trying to phone a cab.

 

**2.**

He hasn’t been home since Zayn left, but he reluctantly crawls into bed that first night back on his own. His sheets still smell like Zayn.

So does the teeshirt in his closet, the first thing he picks up when he goes to get dressed.

It wasn’t Zayn’s shirt, but it smells like him, still.

 

**3.**

It’s been a few weeks and Harry still wakes up in the middle of night, reaching out for something that isn’t there.

 _You are my phantom limb_ , he decides.

He writes it in his lyric journal.

The next day he scratches it out.

 

**4.**

“You look good,” Liam tells him. They’re in a bathroom, fixing up for the cameras before their first awards show, after.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes flickering down for just a moment. “I like your pocket square.”

 

**5.**

“This isn’t the end of us,” he says, lips stretched tight, nodding along with what he hopes reads as enthusiasm. The other boys mouth agreement and Harry starts to think that  maybe he can do this.

 _But it was the end of something,_  he remembers.

He goes back to the hotel that night, and scrubs at every inch of himself for hours.

“Please come out,” Niall says at the door, voice gentle as ever.

But Harry can’t. Not until the feeling of Zayn’s skin on his own is gone.

 

**6.**

Drinking used to be fun. It was fun, with him.

 

**7.**

There was a life before Zayn and there was a life after. 

Harry can’t remember what the first was like. The after doesn’t feel like anyone he’s ever been.

 

**8.**

He starts to unpack. Half of the clothes aren’t his.

He throws out the entire suitcase.

 

**9.**

“How are you feeling?” Niall asks him. It’s become a daily thing, this question. They know why he’s asking and Harry never gives a straight answer.

“I packed for the rest of the tour,” he answers. “Bought a new suitcase, too.”

“Good, that.”

It might be, anyway.


End file.
